


Spot of Mummery: Koh's Q&A

by Spot of Mummery (Aywren)



Series: Spot of Mummery [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Allag, Allagan, Gen, Syrcus Tower
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-01 19:56:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16771819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aywren/pseuds/Spot%20of%20Mummery
Summary: A series of Question and Answer between Koh and Amon, dealing with Allagan topics.





	1. Koh's Q & A: Tomestones

Koh opens her book, pen posed for writing. She eyes Amon from over the pages. 

“So… let’s start by talking about tomestones,” she gets straight to the point.

“Mmmkay.” He looks bored. Or disappointed in the topic. She can’t really tell.

“We have it that tomestones were storage media for Allagan information.” 

“Correct.”

“How do you feel seeing them turned into a form of currency for current day adventurers?” Koh asks. 

Amon takes a deep breath through his nose. “Honestly, the idea that your people purchase what’s considered to be some of the most powerful gear available in your time… with copies of _Nite Nite, Dalamud: Bedtime Stories for Kids_ and _Six Ways to Cook Allagan Snails…_ is pretty ludicrous. I suppose without the proper reader and cipher, you can’t know much about what’s on the tomes. So, I don’t really blame anyone for thinking they’re all valuable.” 

Koh perks up. “Can you tell what’s written on a tome? Like if I were to show you one right here?” 

“I could try,” Amon shrugs. 

She fumbles around and brings out a handful of tomestones for Amon to see. He picks them up one-by-one and purses his lips. It’s hard to tell with a mask obscuring his eyes, but she believes he’s examining each of them. 

“Sooo…?” Koh leans forward in anticipation. 

“This appears to be a comic book collection,” Amon holds one up. 

“A what?”

“And this…” he shakes his head. “Some sort of worthless self-help drivel.” 

Koh leans over the tome, trying to see what he’s seeing. 

“And…” Amon pauses, holding up another. Even under the mask, she can sense his eyebrows raising. “Koh… I had no idea you were into collecting such _bawdy_ material.”

“W-what?” Her eyes widen in shock. 

He just makes a low sound in the back of his throat. “Quite _naughty_ , indeed.” 

“Oh my gods, are you saying Allgans had…” Koh chokes, face turning every shade of red. Then she flails with her hands. “No, don’t answer that! _You_ keep that one!” 

Amon breaks out into a barking laugh. “Just kidding!”

When he tosses the offending tomestone to her, she still almost drops it in disgust anyway. 

“I can’t _really_ tell you what’s on any of these without a proper tome reader,” he grins impishly.

“ _What?_ You mean you were just…” 

His grin stretches wider in response. 


	2. Koh's Q&A: Language

Koh opens her book, pen posed for writing. She eyes Amon from over the pages. “Let’s talk about language.” 

Amon doesn’t respond. He appears to be engrossed in building a tower out of tomestones on her desk. 

“Amon!” Koh calls to him with a hint of sharpness. 

“Huh? Oh, right. I’m listening,” he leans away from the half-built tower and folds his hands behind his head. 

“Language,” she repeats, getting him back on the same page. “It appears that Allagan language was fairly close to our common standard language of today. I mean, the nodes we’ve discovered and objects we interact with use a language we can understand.” 

He doesn’t say anything, just shrugs a bit. 

“Aside from a noticeable accent, you’ve picked up and use our day-to-day language quite well,” Koh notes. “Was it the linguistic similarities that allowed for that? How did you adjust?” 

“I’m quite clever,” Amon answers without hesitation, his face completely straight.

She waits for him to expand on his statement… but he just goes back to building the tomestone tower.


	3. Koh's Q&A: Giant Allagans

Koh opens her book, pen posed for writing. She eyes Amon from over the pages. “Let’s talk about something interesting today.” 

“Finally.” 

“So, based on data and recorded material that the Warriors of Light brought back from the Crystal Tower, can we ascertain that Allagans were giants?” she drops the question right in his lap. 

This makes Amon straighten in surprise. 

“Here…” Koh opens a folder and produces an image, which she places on the table before him. “The quality is poor, and I’ve taken some liberties of marking this up but…” 

“Guuuuhhhhhh….” Amon peers at the image, then leans back with a nose wrinkle, making the sound of someone seeing an unflattering picture of himself. 

“So, is this accurate?” 

“Yes.” 

“Not an illusion?” She presses. 

“No.” 

“Do you want to tell me about this?” 

“Not really,” Amon replies. 

“Amon.” Koh furrows her brows at him in frustration. 

“Genetic bio-engineered augmentation,” he finally mutters. ****

“So you _made_ yourself that way?” She asks, trying to hide the incredulous tone in her voice. “Why?”

“Seemed like a good idea at the time,” Amon shrugs. 

Seeing she wasn’t going to get much more out of him on that line of thought, she shifts gears, “Were _all_ of your people like this?” 

He gives a rather hollow laugh. “No. Just a select few who were approved for the procedure. You don’t put this kind of power in the common person’s hands.” 

“Then, you weren’t always like this?” Koh begins to write in her book. 

“No.” This time, it sounds almost sad. 

He pushes the picture away as if he doesn’t want to see it anymore. So, Koh puts it back in her file. 

“Why aren’t you like that now?” she asks. 

Finally, regaining some humor, Amon spreads his hands. “Do you know how hard it is to find clothes in that size?” 

Koh groans. “I want a _real_ answer for this!” 

Amon grimaces for a moment, then tilts his head. “I’ll tell you what. Buy me dinner and I’ll consider it.” 

Her ears perk up slightly. “Are you asking me to dinner?” 

“Call it whatever you want,” he shrugs. “I’m just hungry.” 

“You are completely _not_ romantic, you know that?” 

“So I’ve been told.”

******Lore Connection: OOC**

When I was researching Allagans, I found it fascinating that – based on an interview with Koji Fox – the bosses we fight in the Crystal Tower, such as Xande and Amon, aren’t upsized in game just because they’re bosses… but rather because they were _actually that huge in real life!_

__

[-Source-](http://mirkemenagerie.tumblr.com/post/172872854474/cant-see-a-section-on-the-allagan-oh-wise-mirke)

I’m still trying to wrap my head around the concept of a 25-foot tall pun-slinging Amon. 


	4. Koh's Q&A: Current Status

Koh opens her book, pen posed for writing. She eyes Amon from over the pages. “I bought you supper last night.” 

“Yes, you did,” he agrees. 

“So, does that mean you’ll honor your promise and answer my questions today?” 

“I technically didn’t promise anything. I said I’ll think about it,” Amon sprawls out in the chair, but seems a bit on edge. The sessions they’ve had lately have been a little more uncomfortable for him to talk about. 

Koh chooses to push on. He’d decide whether to answer or not, she knew. “Yesterday we discussed how some Allagans, yourself included, were of greater than normal stature.Today, my question is, how come you’re not now?” 

“Obviously, this is a cloned body,” Amon shrugs. “I think I’ve mentioned that before.” 

“Yes, you have,” she nods. “But that doesn’t answer why you chose a clone more in line with the average person. I’m assuming you had options.” 

This inspires a deep breath from him. 

“Am I wrong?” Koh prods. She can tell he’s on the edge of actually talking this time, and doesn’t want to lose the opportunity. 

“No.” 

“Then, what happened?” 

Amon runs his fingers through his silvery hair and stares up at the ceiling as if he isn’t comfortable looking at her as he talks. His voice takes on a deeper, almost ancient tone… something she’s never heard from him before. She feels a thrill of shivers rush through her at the sound. 

“The Tower defenses were going down one by one as the invaders took out everything we had. When Glasya fell, I was thinking: ‘This is it. The final performance.’ I knew my time was ticking down… all I could do was stall the inevitable. Create a diversion. Buy myself a few more minutes.” 

Koh swallows, listening so intently she forgets to write. 

“They stormed up the corridors… these Warriors of Light… this new breed of people… of Hydaelyn’s Chosen. You talk about us Allagans, but _they_ were unlike anything _I’d_ ever seen,” he murmurs. “And if Xande chose to fight – which I knew he foolishly would – he would die and everything was finished. Everything we built would fall. There was no going back to how things were before.” 

“You survived somehow.” 

“No. I was slain.” He says with a note of finality. Then, he looks at her for the first time during the exchange. “But…” 

“But?” The word held a quiver of excitement. Koh chides herself for getting to caught up, knowing he has a way of mesmerizing with words. 

“For all the stories that tell you that us Allagans were completely out of touch with everything and blah-blah-blah, I had a _plan_ ,” His grin reappears, transforming him back into the more familiar Amon she knew. “I’d been experimenting with an automated form of aetheral life-force transfusion. It wasn’t fully tested, and ran a lot of risks… but my other option was death. So, it was as good a time as any to test run it.” 

“And that means…” 

“I set the system up to allow me to trigger a remote transfusion of my aether into a cloned body the moment of my death.” 

“I see,” Koh looks up at him. “But that still doesn’t answer my question. You could have returned in a more powerful form, obviously…” 

“To what end?” Amon shakes his head. “To be hunted down like a monster and slain again? No… there’s no place for what I once was in this world.” 

“And you happened to have a clone ready for that?” 

“I did,” he purses his lips. “I suppose I always knew that when the breaking point came, my only escape would be to become something less than I used to be. Only… that’s hasn’t been all that easy to do.” 

Koh finds herself reaching a hand across the table to him, but stops short before she dares to touch him. Of all the crimes and atrocities that this man had committed…things she couldn’t even imagine… she still felt something for his plight. 

Maybe it was because Amon seemed to genuinely feel something, too. Regret, maybe? Sorrow? Did he really carry the weight of the years under that smile? It was so hard to tell. 

“I think that’s enough for tonight,” she tells him, closing the book. 


	5. Koh's Q&A: Loss of Magic

Koh opens her book, pen posed for writing. She eyes Amon from over the pages. 

He seems a little downcast today. This causes a twinge of concern. 

“We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” Koh offers. 

Amon shrugs, burrowing deeper into his chair. “Let’s just get on with it.”

“If you’re sure?” She sounds almost apologetic. Then, she clears her throat, trying to get back into the research mindset. “Yesterday you said, and I quote: _‘I suppose I always knew that when the breaking point came, my only escape would be to become something less than I used to be.’_ Can you expand on that?” 

“You mean how I’ve lost much of my power… including my ability to cast magic?” He spreads his hands. 

“I’ve seen you cast once.” 

“Under great stress. Once. And only a very weak flame,” Amon agrees. 

“Then that means your ability isn’t completely gone,” Koh glances up from her writing. 

“Maybe not,” he says. “However, the aetherflow remains very distant to me.” 

“Why?” 

“Mostly because this form is unfit to conduct and contain the kind of aether I used to manage. Years of biological enhancements made what I did possible.” 

“So this cloned form… is weaker…” Koh jots quietly. “I see.”

“Well, it also has to do with the clone having been locked in stasis for eras. Even if frozen in time, things become less potent as time passes,” Amon told her. “The same goes for clone augmentation… they are a functioning biological form, after all, and require stimulation to stay strong.” 

“Do you think you could ever _regain_ your old power?”

“Did Noah put you up to asking this?” Amon eyes her. 

“No! This is just research!” Koh blurts. 

He sighs and looks up at the ceiling, mulling over the question. “I won’t say it’s impossible, but it would be difficult. Much of it would center on re-purposing this form. There are methods… but would require objects that are sealed in the Tower… that would allow me to enhance my aether connection again. Since the Tower is locked, that is out of reach at this point.” 

“If… you had the opportunity to regain your power, would you want it?” 

This causes him to laugh somberly. “A man who has drank deep the drought of power must either have a steel will or pure heart not to fold to such a temptation. Sadly, I have neither.”

“Then you would…”

“Likely take the power and return to my old ways if given the chance,” Amon flips his hand as if the statement meant nothing. 

Something about that stings Koh, though she doesn’t know why. Maybe she thought what they were doing - talking things through - was helping him. Or maybe she was disappointed that he would give in so easily to the past. 

“Even after all we’ve…” she hears the words squeeze past her lips, and stops herself, looking down into her book. 

Amon is quiet for a moment before he leans forward in the chair. Though she can’t see his face, she can hear a sincere kindness in his voice. “Koh… I know what your aim is. That you’re trying very hard to domesticate me and turn things around. A lack of character on my part is not a failure on yours.” 

“But you wouldn’t even _try_?” her voice is hoarse with emotion she didn’t realize she had. 

He looks down at his hands, as if pondering their existence. “Sometimes we are what we are… and there’s no escape from that. I can make no promises.” 

“I see,” Koh says shakily, closing her book and getting to her feet. “I… think that’s enough for tonight.” 

Amon opens his mouth slightly as if to say something, but thinks better of it, letting her walk away in silence. 


	6. Follow Up: An Apology

Amon wasn’t sure if Koh would answer his request for lunch. Seeing that their last talk ended on an extremely sour note, he couldn’t blame her.

After obtaining ideas on cooking a proper Miqo’te meal, he worked to perfect the recipe most of that morning. He then requested a table at the Carline Canopy, arranged the food, and waited for Koh to arrive.

Amon felt strangely anxious about what was to come… as if this actually had more meaning to him than he realized at first. Times like this reminded him that he was getting soft.

_Must be this Eorzean air._

When Koh finally did arrive – a bit late and disheveled as usual – Amon was almost surprised. He stood as she approached the table. Her brows furrowed up at him in suspicion, and she paused, waiting for him to make the first move.

He didn’t know what to say, so he just pulled the chair out for her. He did, after all, have _some_ manners.

Koh didn’t sit. She didn’t seem angry… just more… disappointed with him.

“What’s this all about, Amon?”

“I just wanted to talk.”

She looked away. “We’ve already talked plenty.”

“I know,” he sighed. “That’s the problem. I never know when to shut up.”

Koh’s eyebrows lifted at that statement, and she decided to accept the seat. He sat down, too, across from her, hoping she’d notice the meal he’d worked so hard to prepare.

She didn’t.

Instead, she pinned him with a sharp gaze. “So, what do you want to say?”

Amon folded his hands in front of him, leaning back in his chair and looking down at the table.

_No… no… that won’t do. You have to look at her for this._

It was difficult, but he lifted his chin.

“I wanted to… apologize for yesterday.” He wasn’t accustomed to offering apologies or admitting he was wrong, but he did know when he was out of line. “The things I said… while not 100% untrue… were insensitive and they completely disregarded your feelings. I… made something for you… in hopes that you can forgive me.”

Amon motioned to the plate with the meat miq'abob he’d cooked earlier. He didn’t know if it was a favored meal to the cat-girl, but he could hope that it would appeal to her despite the situation.

As he spoke, Koh’s expression was one of increasing surprise. When she finally did look down at the meal, she stared at it in open shock. “You… you did this… for _me_?”

“Do you like it?” He asked, sounding more worried than he probably should.

‘Yes… I mean… I just…”

They sat in silence for a long moment, neither knowing how to continue the conversation.

“I was in a somber mood yesterday,” Amon finally tried to explain himself. “That doesn’t make what I said right… But, I admit, your concern for my situation caught me by surprise. I didn’t know that anyone cared about…”

“ _Of course_ we care, you big dhalmel!” Koh blurted, then looked embarrassed, unsure how Amon would respond to the name-calling.

When she saw he wasn’t insulted, she just shook her head in mock-disgust and took a bite out of the meat miq'abob. It must have been good because she didn’t stop eating until it was gone.

Amon didn’t interrupt her while she ate. He wasn’t sure if his apology was accepted, but this was going better than he had anticipated.

When Koh finally finished, she complimented, “I didn’t know you could cook like that.”

“I’ve been learning.”

“Ah…” She looked down at her empty plate, working up the courage to say something. “I’ve been thinking…”

“Yes?”

“Maybe we shouldn’t do these research sessions anymore.”

“What?” It was Amon’s turn to be surprised. “Why not? I thought you liked picking my brain.”

“I do! I mean…” Koh spread her hands with a sigh. “I still have a million questions but… It’s like I’m treating you like a test subject. And that’s not fair to you, either.”

“I see,” Amon took a breath through his nose, then let it out slowly. For some reason, the thought of not participating in Koh’s silly research sessions made him a little sad. “What if I say that I don’t really mind so much.”

“You don’t?”

“Besides Noah, you’re the only one I can talk to about… all of this.” He muttered into his drink. “Even if some of the things I say upset you.”

She blinked at him, pursing her lips. “Well… we… can still talk if that’s something you want to do. Just… on your own terms. Not so much for science.”

“Okay,” Amon agreed, nodding slowly. “Let’s do that.”

He took a bite out of his own meat miq'abob, which had almost been forgotten in their exchange. He had to admit, it was pretty good.


	7. Koh's Q&A: Clones

Koh opens her book, pen posed for writing. She looks at Amon from over the top of the pages, “We decided on one last session. Just to tie up loose ends.” 

“Correct,” he sits in the now-familiar chair, waiting for her question. 

“Okay. I wanted to talk a little bit about **clones** ,” she says. “I haven’t formulated these questions very well… but… Cloning of people happened in your time. In fact, you’ve said yourself that your current physical form is a clone.” 

“Yes. This body is a clone. The _mind_ is 100% original,” Amon gives a brief grin, as if there was something humorous about that. Then he pauses, gathering his thoughts. “In your time, cloning appears to have a rather negative connotation. But for us, cloning was very common and used for all sorts of medical and technical applications.” 

“Meaning?” 

“Allagans sought to perfect themselves. Defects… injuries… old age…” he shrugs. “All you needed was a clone and you could reverse just about anything. Need a blood transfusion? Clone has your exact blood type. Lost a limb? Clone donation. Failing internal organ? Clone harvesting.” 

Koh wrinkles her brows as she writes, trying to swallow down her distaste.

“We could experiment freely and advanced so quickly… without the need to conduct those experiments on real people. We just used clones.” Amon taps his chin with a slow grimace. “And when Xande started to sell the Empire out to the Void, we sent clones as the sacrifices.” 

“Like a clone of Xande?” she asks. 

“Yeah. Xande. Scylla. Pretty much all of us had some clone or another.” 

“Obviously, _you_ did.” 

“Well,” he purses his lips. “I made very few clones of myself. They were highly specialized. They were also well guarded and preserved… for situations such as this. I was not as frivolous as others with my personal duplication.”

Koh tilts her head and asks, “Now that you’re practically living in a cloned form… does that change the way you feel about clones as people?” 

“Clones as _people_?” Amon frowns. “I don’t follow your question.”

“I mean… clones are a replication of a person. Which makes them, physically, at least… a _potential_ person,” she points the tip of her pen at him. 

He laughs somberly. “I’ve had this conversation many times before.” 

“Oh?” 

“Clones are not people. They are biological creations that _can_ contain a consciousness, but only _if_ their maker grants it,” Amon tells her with a gentle finality. 

“But they’re still _alive_ …”

“To some extent, yes,” he debates. “But what _defines_ life? Is it the systems that keep the body functioning… or a mind and soul? A machine has systems that keeps it running, but you wouldn’t consider it alive.” 

Koh huffs and brushes her hair out of her face. “I won’t win this discussion with you, will I?” 

“No,” Amon tells her. “I’m far too set in my ways. I’ve seen too much of what goes into the creation of clones to think of them as something living.” 

“Even though you are one now.”

“I’m not a clone. I’m simply inhabiting a copy of myself. My mind remains my own.” 

“Alright, fine.” Koh gives up. “I’ll agree to disagree.” 

There’s sadness written on his face a moment, but he doesn’t say anything. 

“What?” 

“Nothing.”

“Come on, I saw that look. What were you thinking about?” 

He leans back from her, the sign that he’s uncomfortable to talk. 

“Amon,” she prods. “If this is my last chance at a research session, at least give it to me straight.” 

“Not… all Allagans thought the way I do. Many of them would side with you. Even ones with brilliant scientific minds.” 

“So why the sad look?” 

Amon looks up the ceiling. “It’s a very long story.” 

Koh laughs softly, “Doofus… I’m here because I _want_ to listen.” 

This makes him smile a little. “Very well. Perhaps it’s time to tell that tale.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Amon D'Syrcus and friends are my in-game characters can be found on the Mateus RP server in FFXIV. You can also check out https://spotofmummery.tumblr.com to see more Allagan Nonsense, character memes, or interact with Amon if that pleases you!


End file.
